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TV star Jim Parsons, with (from left) Angela Paton, Jessica Hecht and Tracee Chimo, has a giant rabbit pal no one else can see in “Harvey.” Photo: Joan Marcus

Few things on Broadway are as old-fashioned as “Harvey.” And it’s not just because Mary Chase’s play is from 1944 — plenty of older works have more edge than this butter knife of a show.

What makes “Harvey” so uncool is that this tale of a man and his invisible giant rabbit is defiantly, almost aggressively wholesome and gentle. That alone makes it distinctive and, ultimately, likable — a show appropriate for the entire family, from kids to grandparents.

Of course, it’s unlikely that this wrinkly chestnut, immortalized by the 1950 movie with James Stewart, would have returned to Broadway without a star. The Roundabout revival that opened last night has one in Jim Parsons, the Emmy-winning lead of TV’s “The Big Bang Theory,” who turns out to be the perfect choice for Elwood P. Dowd.

The role is a tricky one: We have to empathize with a guy who may be totally nuts — or alcoholic, or both.

Nobody else can see Elwood’s long-eared best friend, Harvey, but that doesn’t stop our hero from talking to him, or saving him a place at the table. Parsons’ deft touch with physical comedy is put to good use, and his open, guileless face inspires instant trust. His Elwood is sweet without being goopy.

Elwood’s quirks don’t sit well with his sister, the very proper Veta (Jessica Hecht), and her daughter, Myrtle Mae (Tracee Chimo). Obsessed with keeping up appearances, the women are ashamed to be related to “the biggest screwball in town.” (The slightly unsettling movie is more obvious about Elwood being a lush, a side that’s toned down here.)

The only solution Veta sees is to commit her brother to a sanitarium — read, loony bin — run by the irascible Dr. Chumley (Charles Kimbrough). Easygoing as ever, Elwood agrees, but thankfully for him, the scheme hits a snag.

Throughout, Elwood is aware of what others see as his problem: “I wrestled with reality most of my life,” he says, “and I am happy to state that I finally won out over it.”

Yet there are also sweet hints that Harvey may indeed exist.

This whimsy could be hopelessly corny, but the production handles it lightly. Director Scott Ellis does a good job of contrasting Elwood’s unflappable calm and kindness with the agitation and stressed-out selfishness of those around him. The excellent supporting cast shines here, especially the comically uptight Hecht and the increasingly unsettled Kimbrough. Carol Kane has an offbeat turn as Dr. Chumley’s wife, playing her like a child in a Tim Burton film.

The most striking aspect of the play is that its tolerant message feels almost provocative at a time when the answer to every deviation from the norm is medication.

“Harvey” pleads for simple decency and the acceptance of harmless eccentricity. By the end, you too may want to see that rabbit.